


Regrets.

by RunawayWhispers



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Heartache, Heartbreak, Past Relationship(s), Unresolved Tension, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:12:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunawayWhispers/pseuds/RunawayWhispers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No.” She glared at him, “That was before you left."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regrets.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, so I doubt I'll get many views on this but this is an original piece that I wrote. I hope if anyone reads it, then please do let me know what you think.

It felt as though her heart had stopped beating and time had been stunned into stillness. Years had passed before leading up to this moment; an overwhelming moment of echoing heartbreak washed over her. The memories forgotten beforehand, stored in the darkest years of her life, flooded her mind.

The first time they had met, their first date, their first kiss, the first time they had admitted their love for each other, and the last time they would ever truly be happy. Their love and compassion for each other had been put to rest as he spoke about his love for another. She had never felt pain like she did that night. To hear of his love being redirected, to come to the realisation that he had grown bored of her and become infatuated with another; it had broken her for years. She had struggled to overcome her hurt and betrayal of her ex-lover, however with time she came to terms with the past. She understood that she could no longer live fuelled by the anger she felt, that they had inevitably lived out their time together and that all good things must end.

Time sped back to her, the cafe’s muted chatter filled her ears. Her vision un-blurred, sharpening the image of the hand on the wooden chair, gripping the edge with almost as much tension as she had coursing through her veins. Her mind cleared of all previous thoughts, focusing on only one. It’s him.

She mustered her strength to face him. Her head tilted upwards and exposed the only person she had experiences such comfort and such fear with.

He spoke once again, “May I?”

She sat stunned for a few seconds more before hesitantly nodding. Following this, he moved, his body landing on the small café chair. She roamed her eyes over him. He had aged drastically. Wrinkles had settled around his face, his lips were dry and eyes washed of their luminous colour. He was no longer as graceful as she had remembered, with limbs that were tireless and body ever-moving. Now, every movement felt reluctant and stiff, as though he was reconsidering his next breath.

“How are you?” he asked, setting his coffee down on the table with a heavy thump. He looked at her, analysed her, as she had done to him. She felt uneasy and self-conscious, wondering what he would find. Would she look lonely? Tired? Distressed at first mention of the past relationship? Would he see the damage he had created after leaving her that night, after disappearing from not only her life, but from his own?

“Fine thank you.” she replied.

“Good, good.”  
  
His voice was the same, his hair was the same, his body, despite the obvious aging, was the same. There was something however, that had changed. It was something that she could not put her finger on.

“I hope you and her are well.” She whispered. She was not sure if it was through politeness she said this, because she certainly did not hope they were well. She did not hope they were unwell. She simply hoped that they would soon become a moment in her past, like they had been before.

“We’re…we’re not together anymore. It turned out um…” he took a deep breath “it turned out she had a boyfriend. She fed me a dream of leaving everything, everyone behind to finally become who we were meant to be. She used me to play with when she was bored. I was her game.”

She registered the pain he had gone through. That his life had spiralled, similarly to hers, after leaving. She understood that he regretted his decision and yet still did not feel satisfaction. Their silence lasted for minutes more, the two of them avoiding eye contact before she grew restless.

“I must go now.”

“I miss you.”

His hand gripped her wrist, stopping her in her desperate attempt of escape. “I miss us. What we had, what we were, how could we allow ourselves to throw that away? How could I be such a fool? We had so much together. We had our lives planned; a small apartment, living in the city, building careers, marriage, kids, moving to the countryside to our small cottage with our dog before growing old together. Remember that? We were going to make it. We were the couple that other people measured their relationship to.”

He looked for a response from her, but she ignored him. She heard the desperation in his voice, the faked confidence he built to remind her of what they once had. What he once destroyed.

“Don’t you remember? Remember how we use to go bowling every Saturday? With Daniel and Ellissa? When we use to plan last minute road trips to the beach, and we’d always get sand in our shoes and all over the car? And the Christmas when we went to a party and got absolutely smashed with our taxi driver?”

She continued to avoid eye contact, despite his efforts to get closer to her. His fingers had tightened, his eyes flickering from left to right looking for recognition of their time together.

“Remember...remember when we use to spend all night talking? When there was only us in the night, with the candles on and the music playing softly?”

She did remember all of those things, she had remembered even the tiniest of details, like how the cover smothered them both while they cuddled and discussed their day. How the music would sometimes jump like her heart would when he looked into her eyes. How slumber would fall every night about one without fail. The memories she had longed to once again experience, came back to her, but not without being followed by her hurt and betrayal.

“I love you, don’t you still, somewhere deep in yourself, love me?” He whispered, carefully tugging his hands backwards, attempting to bring her with him.

She stood abruptly, shaking her arm free of his capture. Her anger and loneliness faded, replaced with disgust. She calmly collected herself, straightening her coat, picking up her bag and pushing the small wooden chair under the table stained with tea and coffee. Before leaving, she turned back to face him.

“No,” She glared at him, “That was before you left."


End file.
